...while I process something via my blog. Long story short, this wasn't our month. I am not pregnant.
Those 4 words are like a blow to my heart. For the first time, in a long time, I really thought this was it. My brain and my heart both wanted it so badly that they played tricks on me. I felt... different, I felt pregnant. I know I need to be patient and faithful, and I am, but that doesn't lessen the sting. I mean, how long do you go before it's time to give it up? I know I'm not there yet, but the thoughts creep into my mind more and more.
I want to remain full of grace, strong, faithful, but every month a piece of my armour feels like it's ripped away from me. I did everything I was supposed to do this month, as did Mike, and it still wasn't enough. We just need to catch a break. I need a renewed spirit and a push to keep moving forward.
I could tell you I'm fine, that it's fine, maybe next month, but the human side of me doubts that. I have faith, I believe completely that He hears my cry, and will fufill when the time is right, but that doesn't make the wrong time (now) any easier. Well, that's not entirely true. It DOES make it easier. Maybe not today, when my wound is fresh and packed with salt, but I will, of course, get past this.
I am praying, begging even, for the heart of Hannah. Hannah was the mother of Samuel, barren and despressed, she cried out in her pain but never lost faith. She continued to praise God and eventually she became pregnant. First to Samuel, then to other children. Unlike other infertile women in the Bible, Hannah never turned her back or doubted God, she remained faithful, even when she couldn't bring herself to eat or drink. He lifted her up, and I know that is instore for me. I just have to remain faithful.
We have some things to discuss, our next steps, how we get back up, the plan moving forward. I am thankful for busy, demanding schedules, for my sweet boy, my rock of a husband, my family and friends. I wish I had better news to share. I wish I could have gotten a positive pregnancy test. On to the next month.
Those 4 words are like a blow to my heart. For the first time, in a long time, I really thought this was it. My brain and my heart both wanted it so badly that they played tricks on me. I felt... different, I felt pregnant. I know I need to be patient and faithful, and I am, but that doesn't lessen the sting. I mean, how long do you go before it's time to give it up? I know I'm not there yet, but the thoughts creep into my mind more and more.
I want to remain full of grace, strong, faithful, but every month a piece of my armour feels like it's ripped away from me. I did everything I was supposed to do this month, as did Mike, and it still wasn't enough. We just need to catch a break. I need a renewed spirit and a push to keep moving forward.
I could tell you I'm fine, that it's fine, maybe next month, but the human side of me doubts that. I have faith, I believe completely that He hears my cry, and will fufill when the time is right, but that doesn't make the wrong time (now) any easier. Well, that's not entirely true. It DOES make it easier. Maybe not today, when my wound is fresh and packed with salt, but I will, of course, get past this.
I am praying, begging even, for the heart of Hannah. Hannah was the mother of Samuel, barren and despressed, she cried out in her pain but never lost faith. She continued to praise God and eventually she became pregnant. First to Samuel, then to other children. Unlike other infertile women in the Bible, Hannah never turned her back or doubted God, she remained faithful, even when she couldn't bring herself to eat or drink. He lifted her up, and I know that is instore for me. I just have to remain faithful.
We have some things to discuss, our next steps, how we get back up, the plan moving forward. I am thankful for busy, demanding schedules, for my sweet boy, my rock of a husband, my family and friends. I wish I had better news to share. I wish I could have gotten a positive pregnancy test. On to the next month.
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